Devin Chase Vancil Art and Music Scholarship

“You don’t need any help moving in, do you?” my father asked weeks before my college move-in day. “No, I can do it,” I replied, fully aware my tiny 2012 Ford Focus couldn’t hold everything I needed. I was used to figuring things out on my own. After my mom passed away when I was 12, my father adopted a hands-off approach, leaving me to navigate life without much guidance. Little did I know how deeply this would shape me—leading me to become a composer at 14, come out as gay in high school, and begin my journey at my dream school as someone who loves Adele, thrifting, jewelry making, and seeking happiness in everyday life. Growing up quickly wasn’t a choice—it was a necessity. When my mom passed away, I lost my guiding presence, leaving me to balance academics, a part-time job at a nursing home, and my love for music. My father’s approach wasn’t neglect in his eyes but his way of fostering independence. While I’m still working toward finding peace with him, I’ve learned to value the resilience that independence has given me. At 14, while my peers explored TikTok dances, I was composing melodies to express emotions too complex for words. Music became my lifeline and a way to reclaim the part of myself I thought was lost. My first composition premiere at 14 ignited a passion that hasn’t wavered since. Composing is more than a creative outlet; it’s how I navigate and make sense of the world. Another pivotal moment came during my senior year of high school when I came out as gay. It was a liberating decision that allowed me to live authentically in a community of loving people. Embracing my identity taught me that bravery isn’t about the absence of fear but about moving forward despite it. Now, as a college freshman, I’m finally in a space where my identity and passions coexist freely. Thrifting, for example, isn’t just about finding vintage treasures—it reflects my ability to see value and beauty in overlooked things. Jewelry making offers a tangible creative outlet, contrasting the intangible yet deeply personal art of music. And then there’s Adele, whose authenticity and emotional depth inspire me and mirror the truths I strive to convey in my music and life. Today, my driving force is the pursuit of happiness—not fleeting moments but the everyday joy found in connection, creativity, and self-discovery. Attending Butler University to study Music Composition marks a major milestone, but my journey doesn’t end here. I want to use my story, music, and resilience to inspire others. Whether through composing, conducting, or simply being present, I aim to show that our struggles can fuel our strength. Earning this scholarship would allow me to continue my education and expand the ways I can make a difference. It’s not just an investment in my future but also in the lives I hope to impact. I’ve already overcome challenges that once seemed insurmountable, and I’m eager to see what comes next. After all, life is a symphony, and mine is just beginning to be composed.

My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. My work always begins with extensive research on the subject. Documentaries, biographies, interviews, and work written by the historical figure are the driving force of my work. Once I have researched my subject, I experiment with my medium and its application. Since my work is mixed media my approach to making a piece is never the same. I start by learning the basics of my medium, such as sewing or scratch board. I then explore the limitations of my material and how to use those limitations to elevate the concept of the piece. For example I was inspired by the color limitation of scratchboard, so I explored using similar techniques on other easily scratched surfaces like vinyl records. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continue to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people. I use my art to connect and remember our history. I believe art is important to preserve and commentate current events when words fail to properly express our feelings. History classes will never be able to capture the love and suffering the historical figures I paint have faced. My art expresses the lives of these people in more meaningful ways than documentaries and textbooks. Without art we lose what brings people and new ideas together. Art forces you to see the world in new ways.